


Eyes Open

by ADbLOCK



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: F/M, Figure Skater Irene, Figure Skater Sherlock, VirtueMoir - Freeform, World Figure Skating Championships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-16
Updated: 2018-03-16
Packaged: 2019-04-01 03:28:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13989498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ADbLOCK/pseuds/ADbLOCK
Summary: Sherlock Holmes is a solo figure skater, and he's suddenly paired with Irene Adler.(drabble-ish)





	Eyes Open

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back! But I think I really forgot how to write fanfics properly. Anyway I hope you enjoy this VirtueMoir tribute because they're far too precious for this world. They're far too perfect for each other too! Also inspired from "Sleepy Eyes" by Elohim & Whethan.
> 
> This is more of a drabble than a one-shot. It doesn't help that I know nothing about figure skating. So, really, don't expect too much out of this.)

_Kiss me with your eyes open_

_So you can see me when I'm melting_

_Kiss me with your eyes open_

_They dilate when you hold me close_

_\---_

When he first heard of it, he was furious.

Downright furious that even Mycroft wouldn't dare to be cross with him.

He wanted to smack everyone out of their little heads. Especially John, his head coach and the only person he considers his friend.

Considered.

Everyone knows that the spot for men's singles is for no one else but for Sherlock Holmes. The Ice Man - the title passed to him after his brother had hung up his skates to head the UK team instead. A perfectionist on-ice with his perfect form and perfect timing. An emotionless robot off-ice with an air of arrogance and coldness with his cold blue eyes and high set of cheekbones.

The perfect Ice Man.

Imagine when John Watson told him that some Graham Lestrade (Griffith? Gary? He didn't care!) was going to replace him in the men's singles category. Now imagine the whole world burning in his anger when John added that he'd be competing in the pair figure skating category.

With Irene Adler. Better known as The Dominatrix.

A nobody turned to a diva when she went solo after the sudden news of performance-enhancing drugs tucked in Godfrey Norton's bag. She blew the world away with her solo performances. And now no one remembers the Norton-Adler pair - only Irene Adler remained.

The figure skating world adored her, but Sherlock was sure that she wouldn't be able to catch up. All he had to do was make John realize that it wasn't going to work.

Until he asks them to skate around the rink together.

She arrives eleven minutes and thirteen seconds after their agreed time, opening the doors with a mischievous smirk on her lips. The sound of her heels clicking on the tiled floor commands the attention of everyone in the training center. There's something in the way she moves, like a cat gliding gracefully across the floor, that keeps everyone's eyes on her. It's when she stops in front of him that he realizes how short she is without heels, how ice cold her blue eyes look, how her smirking lips are painted blood red.

"Mr. Holmes," she says in a tone laced with the breathlessness of seduction and the firmness of dominance.

Nonetheless, he tilts his head and locks his jaws in a show of defiance.

"Ms. Adler, I presume."

A small chuckle leaves her red lips. "Glad that you've heard of me."

Maybe the thrill that shot up his spine was totally unnecessary. Frustratingly, it was something he wasn't able to shake off until the end of their training. And he can't deny that this partnership could possibly work even with the slightest chance. The percentage of success in his mind goes up a couple of numbers.

They train almost everyday. They become better as a pair, and Sherlock knows his solo career is already dead.

Where he moves, she moves. Where she moves, he moves. At one end she'd twist her body gracefully in a full arch and he'd be at the other end to catch her. Together they weave through the ice, their eyes not leaving each other in a silent conversation.

The music elevates along with their beating hearts. They twirl in perfect synchronization, but she extends her arm a little bit more. Taking the cue, he catches her hand and twirls her in the other direction as he pulls her against his chest. She lands against his chest, fitting her head at the crook of his neck simultaneously with the resounding end of the music.

The crowd goes wild, but Sherlock barely hears them from the blood gushing to his ears and the loud beating of his heart as he feels her lips brushing on his neck. And he knows it wasn't an accident because of the sly grin on her face when she pulls away from him.

In their next routine, he retaliates by skimming his fingers across the smooth skin exposed by her outfit. The shiver that passes through her almost makes her fumble, but he manages to catch her just in time. It costed them a few points, but they won anyway.

A kiss to her shoulders as he dips her.

A brush of lips tracing his sharp jawline.

Her thumb tracing his lower lip.

His hands skimming across her exposed back.

It becomes a sort of secret game between them, yet everyone knows. There's an unspoken rule on relationships between teammates. Sherlock isn't stupid. He knows what their partnership looks like to other people even though they both know it isn't going to happen. But John doesn't stop them. In fact, he steers them toward that direction because everyone loves it far too much

Indeed because they're chosen to represent the country in the Olympics.

Then they try to perform their whole routine for the first time.

There's a twinkle in her eyes that makes his stomach churn at the plan he knows is forming inside her head. He narrows his eyes in a silent warning, but she simply smirks back.

The music starts. They slip on their masks as they start to move toward each other. She accept his offered hand and they move across the ice together. But there's something different in air around her. Something Sherlock can't put a finger on. She weaves through the ice like the smooth silk waving beautifully on her skin. She spins in a mesmerizing way that he has never seen before even after a years of training with her. His arms open on instinct to catch her. There's something in the way that she pressed her whole body to his that made him dip his head to capture the vein on her neck with his lips, sucking lightly and soothing it with his tongue. Her breathy moan echoes loudly in his ears.

Something snaps between them, and it's as if a switch is flicked.

For a moment, his mind flies away and melds with hers in a beautiful symphony of movements. Their connection grows a thousand-fold, and Sherlock feels every movement she makes through their joined hands. Adrenaline rushes through their veins. Each lift, each spin, each movement becomes tuned into perfection in a way that has never been before.

The music reaches a crescendo with their burst of connection with each other. They meet at the center of the ice as they spin and catch each other hands. With one glance, he suddenly pulls her in another spin and she reads the movement perfectly as she twirls gracefully, landing against his chest. Their foreheads and noses touching, their heaving breaths brushing against their lips. A shiver shots up his spine as their adrenaline dies down. Their bodies slowly shut down, but everything remains alive as they lose themselves in their eyes, the thin blue ring almost swallowed in their wide-blown eyes.

"Hamish." A voice echoes around them. "If you were looking for baby names."

He doesn't break eye contact, yet he moves his fingers to trace small circles on her hips. Her hands play with the hair on the nape of his neck.

"John, you may want to step out now."

She raises an eyebrow at his statement, a smirk forming on her red lips. The sound of footsteps followed by the clank of the metal door echoes from somewhere, leaving them alone in the emptiness of the training center.

"How presumptuous of you," she says, her voice breathy and low.

"It's his fault, anyway."

A chuckle falls from her lips as her eyes darken. "Is it now? I seem to recall someone playing along."

"And I recall someone starting the game," he mumbles lowly before crashing his lips to hers in a searing kiss.

* * *

**_Check your twitter._ **

Sherlock rarely engages in social media, but he does have one because it's what everybody does, as John said. Nonetheless, he opens the app, and his notifications blow up.

 

_AdLock News adlock_news_

     Holmes and Adler seen entering the Holmes's flat together. Is #Adlock finally happening? #Adlock #AdlockYacht

_couple of cheekbones @holmesadler4evs  
_

__Replying to adlock_news_  
_

WHAT A GOOD DAY TO BE ALIVE. I'll be in my room crying if anyone needs me.

 

_ADLOCK IS LOVE @loveisadlock  
_

___Replying to adlock_news_ _  
_

asdfghjkl omfg im dead

 

__ <3 Holmes <3 Adler <3 @ily_sherlockirene_ _

___Replying to adlock_news_ _ _

FINALLY THE YACHT IS SAILING

 

His phone pings with another text from John.

**_I told you to be careful._ **

He scoffs as he rolls his eyes. Movement beside him shifts his attention to the warm body pressed up to his side. When he turns his head, he is faced with a pair of blue eyes laced with sleep.

"Why don't we invite John next time?" she hums under her breath.

His hand moves to tuck a strand of hair on the side of her face. It's probably a good thing that he stops himself because he thinks he doesn't like that very much. Even as a child, he isn't one for sharing. Then again he doesn't have to say it because his body moves to capture her lips, their eyes remaining lost in each other.

He pulls her closer just as she rises to straddle his hips. His teeth fall upon her swollen lips. He watches silently as her eyes dilate. The feel of her nails scratching lightly on his back makes him groan as her other hand buries in his curls. She grinds her hips dirtily against him, her lips stretching into a smirk. His grunt gets lost in her laughter as he flips them over. The sound echoes in his ears until all he hears is her voice screaming his name.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me share something with you, guys. I really feel like I've lost my touch in fanfic writing. I wrote this and the feeling isn't the same. I miss fanfic writing after writing all these lab reports. Curse you college!


End file.
